


IKEA: An Unexpected Journey

by Lomelindi (PirateColey)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dis likes tormenting her brother., Durins go to IKEA, Gen, It shouldn't be so difficult to assemble a bookshelf., No one can read the instructions, The boys just want cinnamon rolls, Thorin gets lost., Twice., Who designs this stuff anyway?, total crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateColey/pseuds/Lomelindi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin hates IKEA. He hates it with the kind of single-minded rage that is normally reserved for neighbors with loud music after 9PM, or people who don't use blinkers on the thru-way. When the Canton store first opened, he had gone with some friends to buy a bookcase and lost half a day wandering amongst the displays. He vowed never to go back. </p>
<p>(CRACK fic. Durin's in IKEA.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	IKEA: An Unexpected Journey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



> Syxx wanted the Durin's shopping in IKEA. I had other Very Important Things to write. She somehow talked me into it (Syxx: "you can write it, you can take it and make it fly"). It's total crack- Like, no beta, first draft, utterly ridiculous crack. You've been warned.

* * *

Thorin hates IKEA. He hates it with the kind of single-minded rage that is normally reserved for neighbors with loud music after 9PM, or people who don't use blinkers on the thru-way. When the Canton store first opened, he had gone with some friends to buy a bookcase and lost half a day wandering amongst the displays. He vowed never to go back.

Enter Dís. His beloved baby sister, who is recently divorced and in need of furniture for her new apartment. Then factor in her two small sons, who are hellions even outside a large store. What you end up with is Thorin Durin, heir to his family's corporate empire, who is standing in the foyer of IKEA and glaring menacingly at the greeter who had the nerve to offer him a 'good morning'.

Dís smiles brightly at the poor greeter and tosses her long, dark braid over her shoulder. Six-year-old Fíli stands beside her, his blue eyes wide and excited. Three-year-old Kíli is cuddled in his mommy's arms, his dark hair mussed from the nap he took in the car during the drive over. Both boys are abnormally quiet. Thorin is unsettled.

“All right, boys. Your Uncle Thorin and I have some shopping to do.” Dis smiles fondly at her sons. “You two are going to stay in Småland and play. We'll be back soon.”

Fíli looks suspiciously at the red and white tent canopy leading into the childcare area. “Looks like a circus. I don't wanna go.”

“Circuses are fun.” Thorin leans down to his nephew's level. “Maybe there will be a clown.”

“No!” Fíli shrieks, stepping closer to his brother. “Kíli _hates_ clowns!”

Kíli whimpers, burying his face in his mommy's shirt. “No clowns! No clowns!”

“Shh... Easy, little one. There are no clowns here. I promise.” Dís glares at her brother, who has the good grace to look properly chastised. “Let me handle this, Thorin.”

Fíli wanders a few steps away and peers at the door again. “I don't see any clowns.”

“See,” Dís says soothingly. “Nothing to worry about. There are games to play, and a ball pit to jump in, and other kids. Much more fun than walking around a boring old store.”

Both boys look intrigued and Thorin muses that he'd rather play in the damned ball pit than look at poorly made furniture with weird names.

“I'll tell you what. If you boys are good, when we're done shopping we can all get cinnamon rolls to eat.” Dís laughs as both of her sons perk up at the mention of sweets.

“Okay, Mommy!” Kíli says, wriggling out of her arms and hopping to the floor. “Fee and I want cimmymom rolls!” Fíli nods vigorously.

While Dís signs the boys in with the Småland staff, Thorin helps his nephews put their shoes into the brightly colored cubby holes. Kíli is insistent on a red cubby, and Thorin is forced to move some other child's shoes in order to circumvent a toddler meltdown.

The boys disappear into the play area, with waves and backwards glances. Dís turns to her brother and smiles somewhat wickedly. “Time to shop!”

Thorin tries to ignore the dread in his stomach and follows her up the escalator.

At the top of the escalator Dís hands Thorin a small stub of a pencil and a map of the store. “I know how you are with directions. Don't loose the map.” She grins again and Thorin is convinced his sister is purposely trying to look menacing.

“Let's get this over with.” With a sulking glare Thorin pockets the map and trudges towards the first display.

A few agonizingly long minutes later Dís lets out a small squeal and rushes towards an uncomfortable looking chair with a curved wooden frame and a white linen cushion. “I saw this on the website! The POÄNG chair! I need two of these for the living room!”

“You want to buy white chairs? Thorin asks, glowering at the seat in question. “With your boys?”

“I'm sure they'll wash up fine!” Dís strokes a hand over the cushion fondly. “Write the item number down!”

The tiny pencil IKEA provides its customers with is obviously designed for children and Thorin curses as his hand wraps awkwardly around the stubby thing. “POÄNG. 157-142-59. Aisle 20. Bin 7.”

Dís grabs his arm and drags him onwards, following the direction arrows on the showroom floor. The next hour passes painfully slow and Thorin wonders if he could hang himself with the cord of one of the ridiculously abstract light fixtures. At each room vignette Dís points out the pieces she likes, snips about things she'd do differently, and adds more items to her must-buy list.

Thorin yawns loudly at the LEKSVIK desk, with its impractically curved legs and too-small single drawer (where do you put everything?). The EXPEDIT storage unit all but melts his brain as he tries to figure out why anyone would want a series of cubes when they could have a good old-fashion bookcase (breaking up the shelves is wasting so much space!). He does, grudgingly, admit that the KURA bunk-bed, with its space-ship like canopy is a good choice for Fíli and Kíli's room (he's honestly a little jealous!).

“Oh! Do you think this dresser will fit in the boys' room?” Dís points at a black painted monstrosity and then hands Thorin one of the store-provided paper measuring tapes.

Thorin stares incredulously at the measuring tape for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Fine. Let's see here...” The measuring tape rips in two. Thorin curses loudly, startling the group of foreign tourists standing beside them. “That's it! I'm done! I love you, Dís, but I _cannot_ deal with this store.”

Dís waits patiently for her brother to finish his tantrum, then pats his arm gently. “Calm down now. We're almost done. I just need to find a rug for the bathroom...” She trails off as her cell phone rings.

“Hello?... What?... I'm sorry- you're breaking up... The reception is horrible in here... What?... WHAT?!... Are you sure?... How does that even happen?... Oh... I see... That sounds about right... Yes... Yes... We'll look for them now... Thank you.”

Thorin has a sinking feeling that their visit to IKEA is about to get even longer. “Do I even want to know?”

“The boys escaped.” Dís shakes her head and looks closely at the store map. “Here's the plan- You check up here. Pay close attention to the kid's rooms and anywhere there are toys of cupboards to hide in. I'll search the first floor. Call me if you find them.”

She hurries off and Thorin gets the feeling that this isn't the first time this has happened.

Unsure of precisely what to do Thorin starts opening all of the dressers and storage units, and looking inside. He's sure that people are staring at him, a fact that's proven when a young sales girl with a yellow stripped IKEA team-member shirt asks if he needs any assistance. Thorin growls at her, too frustrated for words, and feels only marginally bad when the poor girl whimpers and hurries away. He pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping to ward off the headache that has been setting in since they entered the gold-forsaken store.

“Fíli! Kíli!” He calls softly, peeking under a bed in one of the kid's room displays. “Where are you boys?” He tells himself not to worry- that Dís is looking too and the exits are being monitored. The boys are still in the store, but they're little and alone. And prone to trouble.

Turning a corner Thorin walks past the cafe and into the family area. There are shelves with overpriced stuffed toys and games with foreign names. He's about to leave when a slight movement catches his attention. There, cuddled together in a bin of stuffed panda bears, are his nephews- both fast asleep.

Thorin sighs thankfully and pulls out his cell phone, punching in Dís' number. The reception is terrible and he has to stand perfectly still, with his head tilted low, just to keep the call from dropping. “I found them... Yes, they're safe... Yes... Okay... Yes... We'll meet you downstairs... Okay...”

Putting his phone away, Thorin reaches into the toy display and awkwardly scoops up his nephews. Neither boy wakes up, they simply snuggle close in their uncle's arms, each clutching one of the stuffed bears from the bin. Thorin glares at the store map and tries to figure out the way to the stairs. The giant yellow 'you are here' arrow taunts him and he eventually turns (in what he hopes is the right direction) and starts walking.

Even though there are large black arrows on the floor to show the way out, Thorin gets lost. Twice. The third time he passes the POÄNG chair display he curses and promptly sits himself down to wait. If Dís wants her damnable furniture (or her sons for that matter!) she can come and find him. He's not going to wander for hours around the mountain of a store. Shifting his nephews into a more comfortable position, Thorin leans back in the predictably uncomfortable chair and waits.

It takes over an hour but Dís finally shows up, carrying a bright yellow plastic shopping bag full of kitchen gadgets. “I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?”

“I found the boys,” Thorin replies, cringing as the shopping bag produces a crinkling noise that causes his skin to crawl.

“Where were they this time?” Dís asks, shifting the damned bag and making is crackle again.

Thorin twitches. “Asleep in a bin of stuffed toys.”

Fíli stirs and blinks sleepily. “Are you done shopping yet?”

“Almost.” Dís bites back a smile. “Why did you boys leave Småland?”

“You took too long and we wanted cinnamon rolls,” Fíli says, stating the obvious.

“Cimmymom rolls?” Kíli murmurs, half walking up at the mention of treats.

“Soon,” Dís promises. “We just have to go downstairs and pick up our furniture.”

Thorin bites back a sigh and follows as his sister quickly finds her way to the stairs.

They traverse the self-serve aisles with little trouble, packing a cart with boxes of waiting-to-be-assembled furniture. While Dís pays the cashier, Thorin takes the boys to the tiny cafe and buys them cinnamon rolls that are, quite literally, as big as their heads. They happily snack on their treats as the car is loaded and they head for home.

It's not long before they're back as Dís' new apartment. Thorin unloads the car and carries the awkwardly weighted boxes up two flights of stairs. Dís takes longer than necessary washing the boys' sticky hands and faces, then expresses her mock surprise that the unloading is done.

Unpacking the first box Thorin looks at all the parts with a sickened expression. “EXPEDIT my ass! This is going to take all night!” He grabs the assembly instructions for the cube unit and reads them through, his eyes bulging. “The screw parts of said products all apply those most suitable ones to match with any speed of part so that all of them can available applied with not any problems.”

Dís puts on a movie for the boys and then stands in the doorway with her arms folder across her chest. “Trouble, brother dear?”

Thorin glares at his sister and opens his mouth to assure her that he has the situation under control. Then he sighs. “I have directions I can't read.”

“It's a shelving unit.” Dís raises an eyebrow. “The directions can't be that difficult...”

“While starting to lock Bolts, pls abide by the following drawing, circled and pressed to the down-ward, that'll be do.” Thorin holds out the paper and shows her the complicated drawing, which looks like it could be used to make either a spaceship or meth, but not a storage shelf. “Any ideas?”

Dís grabs the instructions and flips through them, her brow furrowing. Turning to the last page she shrugs. “I say we burn the directions and wing it.”

It takes them five hours and a box of red wine to put together all the furniture. In the end, the EXPEDIT is a little crooked and one of the POÄNG chairs is already boasting a red stain, but neither of them really care. What matters is Dís' apartment feels a little more like home. The boys are sleeping in their new bunk-beds, each snuggled in with the stuffed bears that somehow found their way into the shopping basket. 

Dís collapses into one of the new chairs and drains the last of her wine. “Remind me never to shop at IKEA again.”

“Gladly!” Thorin laughs, feeling slightly tipsy and more than a little happy. “Welcome home, sis.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this while sitting in the cafe in the Canton IKEA. Then I bought myself a desk.
> 
> Also, I totally did NOT make up the instructions in the story. They aren't for the EXPEDIT, but they're totally legit.


End file.
